


Who Are We Again?

by haloburns



Series: Band Practice [6]
Category: Night In The Woods (Video Game)
Genre: Everyone is friends, F/F, M/M, p i z z a, the band needs a name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 18:35:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12348309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haloburns/pseuds/haloburns
Summary: Late night discussions and pizza reveal the perfect name of the Party Barn band. (and no it is not the Party Barn Band)





	Who Are We Again?

“What are we going to call ourselves?” Bea asked as the four of them sat in their apartment in Bright Harbour, planning their first gig. Bea had scored it at the nightclub she worked at when the other band they had booked decided they needed to take a break.

“What about the Spring Cult?” Gregg said, not moving his eyes from the TV where he was fighting a particularly nasty boss. “Because we’re all from Possum Springs and all that shit with the cult last year.”

He explained it as if any of them forgot what had happened.

Mae still woke up in a cold sweat some nights, remembering the Gods she met and the people who she knew were dead because of her and because of that cult. Bea pulled her closer when she did, and kissed her forehead and told her to go back to sleep.

Bea became abnormally sulky sometimes, a stormy look on her face. This time it was Mae who kissed her forehead and reminded her she wasn’t alone in this. They were all there for her to talk to if she needed it.

Gregg cried for Casey still, though the waves of grief lessened as time moved on. Angus would just cuddle him on the couch, a tear or two slipping down his cheeks as he was unable to help his boyfriend.

Angus dealt with it better than they did, though Mae had caught him a few times in the middle of an “asthma” attack. She knew enough about panic attacks to know he was lying, but she knew Angus better and never mentioned it. She passed him his inhaler and rambled on and on about nothing until he quietly thanked her and they moved on.

“I think that’s a no,” Bea said solemnly after a few seconds. Gregg nodded with an odd expression on his face and returned to his game.

* * *

“What aboutWayfinders?” Angus suggested as he dialed the number for pizza that night. “Because we basically had to find our own ways using nothing but what was set before us.”

“Ehhh…” Mae said from her face down position on the couch. She flopped over and raised her legs for Gregg to join her on the couch. “That just doesn’t feel right.”

“But I like the sentiment,” Bea said as she walked from the kitchen with a garbage bag in her hand. They watched her walk out the door to the trash compactor at the end of the hall before returning to their tiny apartment.

* * *

“What if we called ourselves The Ghosts?” Gregg tossed out the new possible name for the band after handing the delivery girl money and a tip for their deliciously greasy pizzas. Suggestions had gone on _all day_ and it was exhausting. But Bea had to have a name by tomorrow so they could print all the posters and get the word out.

Before, the band was just something fun to do, something to keep them out of trouble.

When shit hit the fan in Possum Springs, it became a way to keep them sane and together.

None of them knew it would come this far.

“I dunno, it feels like kind of a stretch,” Bea said as she peered in the boxes of pizza. “Like, we’re obviously not, and none of us feel like ghosts. We aren’t drifting from town to town to try and find our lives or whatever. We’re rooted in Possum Springs and our new lives are in Bright Harbor, but we aren’t just floating around because our lives are dead and gone.”

“So what are we going to do?” Angus asked while he passed paper plates around. (Real dishes on pizza night were for losers.)

“We still need a name,” Gregg said by way of agreement. Everyone nodded, but no one replied while they chowed down on some pizza.

Mae had refrained from giving her ideas throughout the day, though her opinions were readily stated. She just hadn’t felt very creative. She’d flipped through her old journals in hope of inspiration, but nothing came. It was while she was grabbing a soda, her first journal fell to the floor from her back pocket. It showed a person huddled near a fire, a few crude stars, and a name scribbled underneath. Memories of gazing up at the sky through Mr. Chazokov’s telescope flooded back and Mae was quiet as she closed the journal again and returned to eating, her soda forgotten.

After a few more minutes of bickering from her friends and girlfriend, Mae finally spoke up.

“So I think I came up with a name for our band,” Mae said through a mouthful of cheesy goodness. Shocked, the others turned expectantly to her. Mae knew she’d been really different since before they’d moved to Bright Harbor. Back in Possum Springs, she’d worked with a real therapist every week to help her cope; Bea drove her to all her appointments. She’d gotten a job at the Snack Falcon with Gregg, and with her three friends, they saved up to move to Bright Harbor. They’d been here about three months; they’d moved a year after The Thing had happened. It seemed fitting, Mae had thought as they waved goodbye to her parents from Bea’s stuffed car. They hadn’t been back yet.

“We should call ourselves The Lost Constellation.” There was a long pause while everyone tried to decide how it fit. Bea was the first to break it.

“I like it,” she said with a smile in Mae’s direction. Mae didn’t smile back yet; she looked to Gregg and Angus, hoping they liked it too.

“I think it fits,” Angus told her. He was the one who told them all the constellations during The Longest Night years ago. When they’d been “ghost hunting,” he’d imparted more of his wisdom at Possum Jump.

“We’re so great, they’ll put us in the stars.” Gregg grinned mischievously and Mae grinned back.

“So it’s a deal? We’re The Lost Constellation?” Hope crept into her voice and everyone nodded almost immediately.

“Yeah, we’re The Lost Constellation.” Bea pulled out her phone to text her boss their new name and their set pieces.

“I guess we’re gonna need a few more practices,” Gregg said as he polished off his fifth piece of pizza. “I’ll have to see if Mrs. K is up to letting us use that space again. It was really nice.”

“I’ve got a new set put together,” Bea mentioned, not looking up from her phone. “Gregg, I was really hoping you’d help me out with the guitar and bass parts, I’m so lost on how the three will fit together.”

“Hey, I can help with the bass!” Mae cried out, indignant. Bea looked at her, a faint smile attempting to stay off her face.

“If you say so, babe.”


End file.
